


Leeway

by Anonymous



Series: Snowy/Kent [4]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Consent Issues, D/s-verse, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 14:20:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14357259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Snowy takes Kent along with him to a Falconers team get-together. It's casual, and half the team is away on vacations and not even back in Providence yet, so it should be fine.Mostly, it is. But a little bit, it isn't, because Kent is weird about doms, and rules, and Snowy really did think Jack Zimmermann was going to arrive back from Canada too late to make it.





	Leeway

"Are you going to let him keep getting away with that?" Guy asks. He's nursing a beer, leaning over the counter in Marty's kitchen to look out on the rest of the house, elbows resting on the counter, one ankle crossed behind the other. He sounds curious more than anything, his tone mild. Snowy follows his gaze, and isn't surprised to see Kent's got that sulky frown on again.

"Sure," he says, even though that's technically bad sub manners. "He's not hurting anything."

"Hm." Guy takes a sip, drinking directly from the bottle, and keeps watching Kent. Snowy leans up beside him, facing away, his back against the counter. Maybe it was a mistake bringing Kent to a Falconers' team party. It had seemed like a good idea at the time--there were a couple of collared subs on the Falconers' roster, and some of the others would be bringing kids and partners, which meant the mood was likely to be more sympathetic and welcoming than the average locker room. The guys likelier to be on better behavior than when left to their own devices.

"Why? You think Parse is looking to fight someone?"

Guy laughs. Kent's a pest, but he's not a fighter, generally. He'd tried a couple times during the end of season run, though. Probably doubling his stats in the process. He hadn't quite been a loose cannon during the worst of it, but he'd been intense, unpredictable in a way that Parson usually wasn't, and afterwards he'd swing to the opposite, a subdued wreck on the other end of Snowy's video chat. Guy had come along with Snowy to get Kent out of Vegas, so it's not like he hadn't seen any of it.

"If he does, I hope it's Poots," Guy says, grinning, bottle raised again, hovering halfway to his mouth. "He'd never see it coming."

"I would have thought you'd say Tater."

"Tater Tot would expect it," he says, over the mouth of the bottle. "It's not as funny."

Tater, of course, would have to overhear it. "What's not funny?" he asks, coming over to join them.

"You," Snowy tells him, without heat and just for the hell of it. "Your jokes. Your face."

"My jokes very funny," Tater tells him. "Maybe you just not get."

Guy reaches past him to point a lazy warning at Tater. "Don't mess with my goalie, man."

Snowy steals Tater's beer. "Yeah. Don't mess with me." He clinks it against Guy's. It's nice. Companionable and dumb, Tater pulling a ridiculous hurt look at the loss of his beer before making do with a bowl of pretzels someone's left on the counter instead of having set out on the coffee table with the rest of the snacks.

"Pretty sure that's for the kids," Guy tells him.

"Kids are outside. They not miss."

"Yeah. Fuck those rugrats," Snowy says.

Guy gives him a look. "On the other hand," he decides, "take the goalie."

Snowy laughs, while Tater goes to the fridge to get a replacement for his beer. Guy's fucking loyal to his family and it's cute. He'd be an easy target for chirps if those topics weren't off limits. Guy himself, though--

"Remember when you were young, babysitter?" Snowy asks him. "And cool?"

"That's now," Guy tells him, taking another swig of beer. "I mean, look at me."

"Please," Tater grumbles, half in the fridge and busy rummaging. "Don't be making us look. Is bad enough when training camp starts and I have to be seeing you every day."

Snowy lets them go back and forth, still leaning back on the counter. Half of Tater's stolen beer is gone, and it's not even cold anymore, so when Mashkov comes back into range, he switches bottles, and pretends not to notice the indignation. He's not watching the living area, so he doesn't notice Kent being drawn in by the banter until he's there, inserting himself between Guy and Snowy--weird until he remembers Kent and Tater are on dubious terms most of the time--and leans against the counter. His knee brace has been downgraded to a lighter model, and he's off the crutch. Not that he'd been great about remembering it before.

"Parser," Guy says. "You need a beer?"

It doesn't look like Guy actually intends to move to get it, so Snowy hands his over, and gives Kent a quick pat between the shoulders as soon as he takes the bottle. There's no reason to avoid telling gestures. The guys know Kent's a sub-- _everyone_ known he's a sub, now--and he's here as Snowy's plus one. He's not even being obvious about it, but Kent's not used to being public and it makes him quiet. More subdued than when he's with the Aces, even after everything that had been going on. That had come out. He probably misses having his own guys around, stuck hanging out with Snowy's team, or at least the ragged bunch of them that are stuck in Providence raising families or who happen to be back early from vacation, 

"If these guys suck, we can go," Snowy offers, taking pretzels from the bowl Tater'd set back on the counter when he'd gone to find a new beer. "I just had to let them see me so they'd feel comforted. You know." He grins at Tater. "Because I save them from their fuck ups. They get nervous if they don't see me in too long."

"It's not fuck up," Tater says. "We're just saving you from going to sleep."

"Yup. Just keeping you in a job, Snowy."

Kent laughs. Just a small huff of air, but it also happens while he's trying to swallow a sip of beer, so it turns into a fit of undignified snort-coughing.

"See? Parson is agreeing. We just letting him go past so you have something to do." Tater ruffles his hair. It's a perfectly normal thing to do with a friend's sub, and as a friendly gesture towards Kent. Kent doesn't even seem to hate it, making a face and a disgusted noise, humoring it.

"Hey, hey," Guy says. "That's an NHL captain you're ruffling up there. Show some respect."

Tater does it again, with a belligerent look at Guy, and Snowy lets himself laugh and relax, even as Kent ducks away, sliding a little way along the counter until he's closer to Guy than to Snowy, but out of range.

"How's Providence treating you?" Guy asks, barely looking over. He's watching the kids running around outside, Snowy realizes, ready to stop any fun they might decide to have. 

Kent picks at the label on his beer bottle. Shrugs. "Pretty good." He doesn't mention Troy's visit, and Snowy can't blame him, because that might invite questions about trades and the Aces reshuffle and any number of things that everyone would prefer not to get into. "Quieter than Vegas."

Guy huffs. "Well, excuse us, mister sin city."

Kent grins. It's soft around the edges in a way Kent's expressions didn't used to be, even when Snowy had been playing on the Aces. There'd always been that cocky edge to him before, like a dare. Playful, when he and Snowy had been on opposing teams later, Kent flashing past his goal like a challenge or a game, trying to get a rise out of him. If Kent thought he was impressing Snowy--well, his hockey impressed anyone who knew hockey even a little, but more than that, he'd just made Snowy want to have him, and then begrudge the distance between Providence and Vegas and what he'd thought was a real, ongoing thing between Kent and some of his teammates.

A real, ongoing thing that Kent _wanted_ , instead of a thing that he thought he did because he'd had his head turned around.

The front door opens. Someone's saying, "--right place?" and, "--better knock."

"--supposed to come right in," Zimmermann says. "They're probably out back anyway."

Kent freezes.

Snowy hadn't exactly forgotten that Zimmermann was getting back from Canada, but he'd assumed that he wouldn't make it to the party. And on the level that he'd considered it, he expected things would be fine, even with the cold shoulder he and Kent were giving each other.

He'd completely forgotten about Bittle.

"Hey, Zimmboni," Guy says, not really looking away from his yard-watch. The kids must be doing something dumb outside that he foresees needing intervention. Or maybe Poots is about to embarrass himself and Guy doesn't want to miss it. "Didn't think you'd make it."

"Almost didn't. Bitty insisted on baking before we could leave the house."

"I couldn't come empty handed!" Bittle sounds horrified at the suggestion. "The oven can only do two at a time, though, so I hope there's enough for--" He's finally processed Kent, who suddenly looks very bland. Just enough expression on his face that he doesn't like someone's wiped the slate. There’s a little wrinkle in his forehead, a little downturn at the corners of his mouth, but that's it. 

"Parse," Zimmermann says. He sounds surprised to see him there, even though he knew Snowy was coming and that they're together. He'd forgotten the same sort of detail as Snowy had, then. Or maybe expected Kent wouldn't come.

"I made him swear he's not here as a spy," Guy says. He glances away from whatever's going on outside to look at Kent, just quickly taking in his reaction. "Crossed heart, the whole thing."

"Hey, Jack," Kent says. His voice sounds a little tight, but otherwise it's normal. "I thought you were going to be in--Uh, I didn't know that you'd--" He pauses. Regroups. "Snowy thought you'd still be in Canada." There's an apologetic tone to it that makes Snowy bristle a little. Like Zimmermann can bring Bittle, but he shouldn't bring Kent, or should schedule around them or something, and sure, there's things to consider with Kent being an Ace, but this is just an off season get-together. Touching base and catching up and trying to empty Marty’s kitchen of beer and snacks.

"We took an earlier flight," Jack says, while Bittle makes himself busy finding a place to set his pies. 

"I'm sure Tater appreciates it."

"Haha, Snowy. Now I see how you are being funnier than my face." He's already getting out forks and plates, though, rummaging through the drawers like he lives there. "Come on, Little B."

"Should we have brought something?" Kent asks, as Tater leaves the kitchen with his hands full of plates and silverware. "Was this a potluck?"

"We brought me," Snowy says, and leans over a little to steal Kent's beer back, keeping it just long enough to take a swig, then bumping him with the butt of the bottle, prompting him to take it back. "Goalie rights," he says. "I don't bring shit."

That makes Kent relax again. "Let's not let that get out," he says. "Tazo'd be all over it, and he's the only one who ever brings real food." He's still standing closer to Guy than to Snowy, facing the same way now that Guy's turned around to talk to Zimmermann instead of supervising the yard. Some actual adult must have gone out there, freeing him from killjoy duty.

"What about you?" he asks.

"Captain's rights." Kent grins, then shrugs a little and says, "Nah. We usually have things at my place, so." He shrugs. Gestures with his bottle at where Tater is back, getting drinks out of the fridge for Bittle and Zimmermann.

"Yeah. Marty loves having us over too."

Kent laughs, expression softening a little. Snowy can tell that the idiot really does like having his team over, but it makes Snowy think of his ex-As being in his home, hanging around. Maybe staying over. 

"Are you--?" Zimmermann starts, then turns it into, "How long are you staying?"

They're going to try to make small talk with each other. Snowy bets it will be at least as painful as the time he'd been stuck with them pretending to be indifferent to each other, but he appreciates Zimmermann making the effort.

Kent doesn't even try. "Sorry for closing the distance, Zimms," he says, cool, eyes flat. His hair is fluffed up from Tater's ruffling, but it's not doing much to lessen the effect. 

"I didn't mean it that way."

Kent visibly bites back a snippy response and settles on answering the original question with, "Only until training starts up. Maybe a bit before. We had some--" It's too telling a pause. "There's some stuff to do."

"Yeah," Zimmermann says. His face is a weird mix of warmth and sadness that Kent's gaze slides away from in favor of focusing on some point to the left of Zimmermann's head, that sulky look back on his face. This time Guy doesn't mention it, even though Snowy's sure he notices. "Um. Kent--"

"Let's leave Vegas out of this," Snowy decides. Even that might be too direct, like he's naming the elephant in the room instead of trying to steer them around it. Even he and Kent have been dancing around the topic, not mentioning it head-on as soon as the situation had made avoidance possible. The mention makes Kent flinch, but Snowy keeps his own expression calm, holding Zimmermann's eye until he says,

"Yeah. Okay. I wasn't--" and then stops talking, to pick up again with, "It's good to see you, Parse. That's all."

"Sure."

That's intentionally rude. Kent's usually just a brat when he's feeling good about things, but he seems to be expanding his horizons.

"Well, what do you _want_ me to do with him?" Snowy asks, once Zimmermann's surrendered with a sigh and gone to accept the drink Tater's been holding, waiting for him to finish trying to make nice.

Guy shrugs. "I didn't say anything," he points out, and, because Kent is right there, gives his back a pat, then ruffles his hair, gentler than Tater had. An apology for the dom talk, and acknowledging that they're conducting it over his head. 

The friendly contact makes Kent settle down. Guy might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but Snowy has to admit that he kind of enjoys seeing his friend's hands on his sub, and seeing Kent respond to it, accepting the gesture as a cue to stop playing the role of a visiting Ace, and just be Snowy's sub. There'd been some resistance to Snowy getting involved with Kent, and by extension involving the Falconers in the wider league upheaval, but if Tater can fuss over Bittle, there's no reason Kent shouldn't be treated like he's at home and belongs.

"You were thinking it, though," Snowy accuses, a little distracted by the new calm look on Kent's face. He's just letting the conversation go on around him. Not checked out, but just like he's comfortable, happy to not do any of the conversational work while Guy and Snowy trade remarks. It's a little easy, not just for Kent, but for any sub, but he's also been a little uneven that way, and maybe the collar he's wearing--for once--is helping to push things along.

Guy glances outside, making sure that the kids haven't set Marty's yard on fire, and swirls his bottle, then sets it aside and sighs. "Not getting pie?" he asks, changing the subject, directing it at Kent, who doesn't respond for a couple of seconds, then seems to shake himself.

"Huh?"

"And you're just holding that beer," Guy says, and steals it from him, sliding it easily from Kent's fingers. Kent resettles his now-empty hands on the edge of the counter, gripping lightly.

Then jerks upright, straightening quickly enough that he bumps Guy's arm almost hard enough to knock the bottle out of his hand. 

Guy swears and straightens up himself, setting the bottle down with a thunk. "Whoa, Parson."

Kent steps away from him, eyes flicking to Snowy, then back to Guy. "Uh," he says. He looks at Snowy again.

"Parse?" 

"Oh, shit," Kent says, sounding like Snowy when he's suddenly realized he's supposed to be somewhere.

"What's up?" Guy asks, then looks at Snowy when Kent doesn't respond. 

Snowy's not sure. It's a weird turn-around, with nothing to pin it on, but Kent's looking at him like he's growing an extra head. "Hey," Snowy says, and steps towards him. Kent steps back.

"Snowy--"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here. What the hell's going on, Kent?"

"Nothing." He runs a hand through his hair, agitated, but also straightening it out. It's a weird combination. "It's nothing."

Snowy and Guy exchange looks, not subtly enough to escape Kent's notice. Whatever's going on with him ratchets up at it, Kent reading something into it beyond plain confusion. "It was nothing," he insists.

There's no way to argue with that, because he's right. Snowy can't get a bead on what's going on, or what's happened, because nothing _had_ been happening. "Yeah," he says, "I know."

That throws a wrench in Kent's spin-out. It's like agreement is the last thing he'd been expecting, and now he's not sure how to keep going with whatever it is that he's trying to go on with. He looks confused. A little bit like he's lost in Marty's damn kitchen.

"Kent."

Kent looks quickly at Guy and away, then heaves a breath. "Sorry," he says. Snowy's not sure what it's for.

"Okay." It's not the right thing to say, because Kent hadn't done anything, but it doesn't seem like he'll listen to an argument either.

Kent doesn't look convinced. When Snowy takes another step towards him, he retreats again. Stepping backwards right into Zimmermann, who's back to get something, and then it's like a pinball machine, Kent jerking away from him, towards Snowy, then pulling away when Snowy moves reflexively to catch him.

Zimmermann looks frozen. That's great. That's helping a ton. "Kenny?" he asks, confused.

"It's fine," Snowy tells him quickly. "Don't make a scene, Zimmboni. We'll have half the team in here."

"And we were hiding out here for the peace to begin with," Guy adds, trying to make things normal again while Kent looks at them all with an uncertain, wary look. Taking the weirdness in stride. Guy had been in Vegas, Snowy reminds himself. He'd seen what Kent was like after that last game, that had dropped the Aces out of a chance at the playoffs, irrationally having convinced himself that he could fix things if the Aces won enough. 

Kent takes another step back, this time so he can put his back against one of the cabinets, leaning, but with his shoulders hunched up and his head down. "Sorry," he says again, to Snowy. "I didn't--I wasn't thinking."

Realization hits Snowy like a ton of bricks. Like being bowled over by some giant asshole. "Oh, fuck."

Kent's head ducks even further, not defensive anymore, but miserable. He doesn't need Zimmermann to be seeing this, but Snowy's not sure how to get rid of him, because he's pretty sure Zimmermann will hold his ground if he tries, and none of them need that scuffle to happen either.

"What?" Zimmermann asks, "What's going on?" There's a tense note creeping into his voice. Like he's not sure if he should be worried or angry or scared, and whether or not any of that should be directed at Snowy. Snowy ignores him.

"Kent," he says, "It's fine."

"Kenny--"

Kent's gaze flicks over to Zimmermann, and then back to Snowy. He'd been sinking under Guy's hand, a little, or he'd be less fucked up right now. Kent's slow coming up, sometimes, like he doesn't really want to leave subspace and face whatever comes after. It's not clear where he is now, with that. He looks alright, but he also doesn't have the grip on things that he usually does. 

"Shut it, Zimmboni," Guy says, low voiced. Calm like nothing is happening. He's not watching Kent. "Get whatever you were getting."

"Fuck," Kent says, after another second. "Snowy--"

This time, Snowy doesn't step towards him. "Jesus. It's _fine_ , Kent." It's not like he'd gone down for Guy. He'd gotten a little hazy eyed and comfortable, and even if Kent only took a light touch, it was nothing. It was normal. There's no sub that hasn't done the same, and even if he's a pain in the ass sometimes, Guy's a comfortable dude to zone out a bit with. The goddamn dom rookies do it. Snowy's seen them, getting quiet and adoring and thinking nothing of it, and Kent hadn't even gone that far.

Kent swallows. He doesn't look scared anymore, but he does look like he's just run over someone's dog. It's not as bad as he had been in that hotel hallway, but the look is familiar, the situation an echo.

"You didn't _do_ anything, okay? If I was going to have a problem with Guy, I'd have told him to keep his hands to himself." Hell, if Snowy was going to be pissed, it would be at Guy, not Kent. Maybe at himself.

Heck, he's a little pissed at himself anyway. He'd known that Kent's As had considered responding to other doms a major transgression, no matter how accidental or harmless. Kent had pretty much said so, making Snowy sure that he'd been part of what had caused the bad scene that led up to Kent getting left on his own, halfway to subdrop and tanking fast, in a hotel room he'd managed to get out of, but not back to. Because Kent had teased him on the ice and Snowy had flirted back. Because Kent had paused to chat while play was stopped to break up a fight, maybe because Snowy had ruffled his hair at the end of the game and Kent had grinned, allowing it briefly enough to maintain his cover, but still allowing it.

He must have been putting his foot into it all the time if he thinks getting caught up for a couple of minutes is worth this level of guilt and upset. If any of those assholes are still on the ice when everything shakes out, Snowy's going to fuck them up.

"Kenny," Zimmermann tries again. He's part of the current problem, Snowy realizes. There's obviously something between him and Kent and it's making Kent antsier instead of calmer. Like he thinks Snowy's going to be pissed that he has history with Zimmermann.

Or maybe pissed that it _shows_ that he has history with Zimmermann. Or maybe Kent's responding to Zimmermann right now, having some sort of moment that he thinks Snowy's picking up on. Whatever it is, Kent's starting to pull it together, and after scrubbing a hand through his hair, decides that the solution is to say, "What do you want, Zimms?" in a cranky tone. It's a little hoarse. Like his throat is too dry to really pull the antagonism off.

Guy makes an impressed noise, but holds his hands up to signal peace when Snowy shoots him a look. Kent getting prickly also means Kent getting focused and intense. Zimmermann hadn't done anything except try to help, but it's possible that Poots won't be the one who ends up in a Parson fight if things get weird. Weirder. It sucks when Guy's right. Snowy should have done something to reel Kent in when the reeling was good. He'd been letting Kent take the lead, giving him space, not pushing, but it looks like Kent's going to use that space to drive himself off a cliff, and now Snowy can't do anything that won't also feed into Kent's honestly fucked up expectations.

"Kent," Snowy says, making it stern this time instead of soothing. Kent's attention flicks to him, a mix of emotion on his face, and then it shuts up behind a wall, like he's facing an interview after a tough game. Snowy'd seen a lot of that expression over the last season. "Come here."

Zimmermann watches him not move an inch. Silent, face unreadable. The whole situation is tough, but he and Kent had been tight in juniors, and Snowy's got no idea what Zimmermann's feeling about the whole thing, but it's got to be _something_.

"I just needed a serving knife," Zimmermann says, to Kent. "Tater's using a fork and Bitty says he's destroying the slices." It's conversational, but he glances at Snowy like he's looking for some kind of cue. "I can get you guys some if--"

Kent snorts.

He's still fucking pushing, Snowy realizes. Trying to make something he'd thought would happen happen. Preventing Snowy from proving that it won't by forcing his hand. Lashing out at Zimmermann probably just because he's there, and because the argument already between them made him a convenient target. 

Snowy repeats, "Come here, Kent."

He doesn't. Snowy's got no idea how to handle the disobedience, considering the context and everything else around it. Zimmermann doesn't move to get his knife either, but just stands there looking at Kent, like he both wants to leave and can't bring himself to. The whole thing is a slow spiral into--not out of control, but just increasing depths of quietly messed up in ways that Snowy doesn't completely understand.

He goes for dealing with the most immediate, surface problem, repeating, " _Kent_ ," in what's now clear warning. Kent tenses up, but this time he comes, slinking over like he's been caught red-handed at something. He seems surprised when Snowy just lays a hand on the back of his neck and gives him a squeeze, firm enough to be warning, far from enough to be punishment, and tugs him over. "Sorry, Zimmboni," Snowy says, because it's the only consequence he can think of that won't also confirm whatever the fuck Kent is thinking. "That my sub is being an asshole."

Zimmermann blinks. "Uh."

Under his hand, Snowy can feel Kent go tense. 

"That's--It's okay. I mean, he isn't."

He's not expecting Kent to decide to make nice and the sulky look he gets instead isn't a surprise either. Kent stays silent while Zimmermann finally goes to rifle through Marty's drawers for what he needs, then turns back to them, hesitating, implements gathered awkwardly in his hand. 

"He's fine," Snowy tells him. "Go stop Tater from destroying the dessert."

As soon as Zimmermann is gone, Kent mutters, "Sorry," again, low voiced and sounding miserable enough that Snowy lets go of his neck and puts his arm around Kent's back instead, pulling him close against his side. He can tell Kent doesn't expect it because he resists before giving in, and then turns to bury his face in Snowy's shoulder, not seeming to care that Guy's right there to see it. He needs to go down and be kept there, probably. Maybe given some easy sure-thing tasks Snowy can praise him for until he gets bright-eyed and cocky again.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Snowy tells him, after letting Kent settle in. "Well, except be a dick to Jack. And Jack's boyfriend. If you want to fight Zimmboni next time we're on the ice together I'll pretend not to see, though."

Kent makes a small noise, muffled against Snowy's shoulder.

"The rest of the guys might decide to fight you back though, so fair warning."

This time the sound Kent makes is a little more recognizable as a laugh. "Sorry. You shouldn't have to apologize to fucking Zimmermann about me," he says. "Sorry--"

"Parson. Stop."

Kent fades off into a mutter, like he has too much momentum to come to a dead halt, then heaves a breath and is quiet for a while. "Jesus," he says eventually. "You're not even going to do anything are you?"

"About being an ass to Jack? As far as I'm concerned, he's your business to be an ass about. Just maybe not at Marty's team lunch, huh?"

It's obviously not what Kent's talking about, and he makes a disgruntled noise before lifting his head and resettling it more comfortably and sighing. "Yeah. Okay. Deal."

"You're fine," Snowy tells him. "I'll tell you when you're not."

"Right. That fair warning, huh?" It's light, but the defensive edge in it gives him away, a little just-in-case note of bravado that Snowy recognizes from their truly shitty time in Las Vegas. Kent stays relaxed, though, leaning against Snowy's side. Not fuzzy anymore, but comfortable and trusting. Ducking his head to accept a hand in his hair.

"Sorry, Parson," Guy says, having worked some of it out himself. "Didn't know you don't like that. Next time, I'll ask Snowy before I touch, okay?"

Kent does like the dom touching, or he wouldn't have slipped down so easily, but not wanting to contradict a dom means letting Guy shoulder the blame. He doesn't nod, but he doesn't protest either, trying to decode Guy's softened demeanor. 

"If Guy's not nice to subs, his wife won't let him in the house," Snowy explains, even though it's bullshit. Guy's just got a secret soft spot, or he wouldn't have accompanied Snowy to Vegas, or been patient with Kent after games. Now that he's calmed down, Kent's starting to remember that too, and cracks a smile. Snowy grins in success.

"Yeah, yeah, you two. If I get locked out I'm crashing at your place, so laugh it up."

The kids are piling around the table with the pies, and Guy takes that as a cue to leave his place at the counter and go pull ice cream out of the freezer. "You guys okay now?" he asks, "You feel like helping me face the horde? Snowy?"

He's just going to hand the job off to Bittle anyway, so Snowy doesn't even feel bad telling him to fuck off.


End file.
